


Automated

by Silent_So_Long



Series: Five Times Sam Washed Bumblebee [4]
Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-23
Updated: 2011-07-23
Packaged: 2017-10-21 17:02:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/227533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silent_So_Long/pseuds/Silent_So_Long
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: fog</p>
            </blockquote>





	Automated

Sam tapped impatiently at the Autobot’s steering wheel, staring in blank irritation at the maw of the automated car wash that loomed in front of them. He sighed, puffs of heated air escaping past his lips as he tried reasoning with the angry Autobot he was currently sitting in.

“C’mon, Bee, just drive in the damn car wash, already. You know we don’t have time to do this properly, hence the reason to go in that tunnel,” he said, for perhaps the hundredth time.

“It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to,” Bumblebee piped petulantly over the radio.

Sam took that as a blatant refusal, and wondered what he could use to barter with what essentially was an alien being.

“I’ll tell Optimus,” was all he could immediately come up with. “You know he doesn’t like subordination.”

Almost immediately, Bumblebee eased his way into the car wash, albeit rather reluctantly. Even though Optimus Prime was a fair leader, he still could mete punishment to those in his charge if there was a complaint of subordination brought against them. Rather than risk the chance of a potential bluff from Sam, the gentle Autobot thought it better to get this over with.

All was quiet at first, until the first jets of water splashed against his bodywork. Although not unpleasant - at first - it was nothing like the gentle washes that Sam himself administered, and there hadn’t been steam jets before either. He flinched away from the steam, remembering wars upon Cybertron with Decepticons screaming through the skies towards him. The enclosed space grew darker and strange shapes loomed at him, upright sponges and brushes that whirred and revolved against his bodywork.

Bumblebee lasted for as long as his patience would allow, before suddenly dumping Sam out in the middle of the whirring mass of water and brushes, transforming into his true form immediately. Bumblebee was an impressive sight, standing at over eight feet tall, all angular robotic lines and ferocious fighting weapons. If anyone were to see him at that point, they would have had a hard job in saying that he was, in fact, one of the good guys.

Sam tried yelling at him to stop, but to no avail. The brave Autobot began shooting, causing the machinery to spark into electrified death. He blew holes in the frame, gouging great welts into the roof and the walls as he battled his way out of the confines of the car wash.

Finally, he was free, standing in the middle of the gas station’s forecourt, proud and warrior-like, steaming with heated glory and dripping water all over the asphalt. Sam walked gingerly out, hair plastered flat against his head, clothes hanging loose and soaked against his slim body. He was also scowling furiously at his mechanical friend, a frown that would have easily rivalled any one of Optimus Prime’s.

“Bee,” Sam screamed up at his friend. “You do not shoot the car wash. It’s not a Decepticon, you know.”

Bumblebee’s gigantic body slumped into dejected lines, before he shrugged expansively. For once, his radio remained silent, proving to Sam that the brave Autobot genuinely felt contrition this time. Sam cast a cautious glance around them, glad for the blanketing confines of the fog that pressed in on all sides. Even through the thick and cloying banks of moisture around them, he could see that the gas station was otherwise, thankfully, deserted.

“You’re just lucky we’re alone, Bee,” he said, wearily. “Come on, let’s get to Carly’s. I’ll give you a proper wash when we’re there, alright?”

Bumblebee nodded, making agreeable sounds, before he slowly folded himself away into his Camaro guise. Sam shook his head at his erstwhile friend and dared a look at the trashed car wash behind them. Even though he was angry and disappointed at his friend, he still had to laugh at the extent of the damage Bumblebee had caused.

“I think you’re spending too long with me, there, Bee,” he said. “I don’t think I could have done better myself.”

Elvis Presley’s voice filtered through the car speakers, proclaiming - “Thank you! Thank you very much!”

Sam had no choice but to laugh.


End file.
